I Was Born to Hold On

Yesterday I had therapy. Mental therapy. Therapy for trauma. Therapy for the assault.

It has been a long week. My son was with his Aunt all week. She's a wonderful woman, inside and out. I wanted to take the time to schedule all the appointments I could. Doctors, therapists, various things that "need to get done".

And there is where the frustration comes in. Because all of those things exhaust me. There was a time that I could do things like that everyday. Come home, make a meal for my son and I and just be home and safe. Organized. Admittedly, I was working 40+ hours a week and not going to 5 different doctors. But that was my life, which seems so simple and easy now. I would make my son lunch, take him to school, go to work, pick my son up from school, beg him to clean his room (he's 11 so that does not happen) and make dinner. Tidy up our home, make sure my son took a bath/brushed his teeth. And then I would pay bills that needed to be paid. Or, after he was asleep, I'd watch a movie. Read a book. Do something random in the house like work on some little project.

This all seems simple and boring. But it was my life. I did not complain about it because it was the life I chose. I have no complaints about being a single, independent woman. There have been times in my life that I have relied on various partners and people to help me emotionally, but for the most part, those people aren't around anymore. They have their own lives, and I understand that. I also appreciate the people who continue to offer help. I want help. I want someone to come to my house and make me tea that I can barely drink. I want someone to bring me a salad or something, anything, that I can eat. I'd love someone to pick me up for a dinner I may or may not be able to eat. I'd love for someone to hug me carefully.

I can't do that right now. As I complain about feeling stir-crazy and feeling isolated, I also want to stay in my little "bubble". It sounds vain, but I don't want people to see what I look like. I don't want people to see that I am almost bald and 80 #. I don't want people to see me cry, throw up, use a walker because my legs don't work. And I don't want people to just be nosy. Which hurts my feelings. I am telling my story the way I have experienced it. It might sound selfish, but this is for me. I know there are so many people who are going through so many things.

We all think we have so many special situations. And we do. No one can understand any other persons reality. There are bills. There are people that are self-centered. There are things we all can't discuss. There are worries. We are all worried about something. I am almost certain there is not someone who doesn't have a worry every day.
Bills. Keeping the household running. Worried about a relationship on any level. Getting the laundry done. Where is my phone and what did I miss on Instagram/Facebook.
And, selfish me says...I know all of those things are things we deal with.
What I worry about, right now, is:
Paying rent and paying for food for my son.
Eating food and  trying to not vomit on my kitchen floor.
Figuring out a way to get into my bathtub.
Not stuttering when I talk on the phone.
Not getting cold when it is 100 degrees out.
Finding little safe places in my own house where I can see everything going on outside.
Will my legs ever work again? When I tell my best friend that I am putting a box of scarves up in my closet because, well, I wear scarves and I also want to make sure I don't fall over and knock myself out and no one finds me.

These are the things that I worry about. These are things that, perhaps, whoever reads this worries about. And my heart goes out to you, for whatever you worry about. If you feel a constant fear. Not knowing where a safe space is. Worried that you might not be able to pay rent or a bill. Worried that your body isn't healing. Worried about anything.

One thing I am not worried about is sharing my story here, as the days go by. I can type all the things that I feel and it is safe.

Be aware. Love yourself. AND be fucking nice to everyone.